


Beautiful Stranger

by Sleepless_in_Starbucks



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Falling In Love, First Kiss, M/M, Songfic, or at least inspired by a song, the song's Halsey's Finally // Beautiful Stranger btw, this is mostly just gays realizing they're gay for each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-01
Updated: 2020-03-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:07:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22974481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sleepless_in_Starbucks/pseuds/Sleepless_in_Starbucks
Summary: Five years. He’s known Roman for five years. And yet today, for some reason completely beyond Virgil’s grasp, he feels like he’s never so much as met this man.But maybe that’s okay.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders
Comments: 15
Kudos: 110





	Beautiful Stranger

_ Beautiful stranger, here you are _

_ In my arms _

_ And I know _

_ That beautiful strangers _

_ Only come to do me wrong _

Virgil couldn’t have explained it if he tried. That didn’t mean he didn’t want to; oh how he wanted to be able to explain this. But there were no words that could describe this feeling. No words that could lay out in clear terms what was happening.

He had known Roman for five years. High school rivals turned college friends. It didn’t make much sense, but Virgil had given up trying to force Roman or anything involving Roman to follow the rules of sense. 

And now the same was happening here. There was no sense in looking at a man he had known so long and feeling as if they had never met. It wasn’t even that, really, because he didn’t feel like they had never met. He just felt like the man he had met wasn’t this man.

But that didn’t make sense either. Roman was Roman. He was the man Virgil knew, and he had never changed his ways. His dramatics, his flare, his flamboyance, all of it. He was the same as always. And yet… he wasn’t.

And words still weren’t helping Virgil figure this out.

It was late. He and Roman had come to Roman’s apartment after a particularly trying english exam, flopped on Roman’s couch, and hadn’t moved since. The late afternoon sunlight that had been filtering through the shutters had been gradually replaced by dusk and dark, the only light now coming from scattered moonbeams. Virgil was lying against Roman’s chest, head resting against his shoulder while Roman had one arm wrapped loosely over Virgil’s back.

There wasn’t anything abnormal or exciting about it. They did this a lot. More or less after every test they had together, sometimes for tests only one of them had taken. It was normal. Commonplace.

So why did this time feel so different?

“Got something you want to share with the class?”

Virgil broke out of his thoughts at the sound of Roman’s voice, quiet and lightly teasing. He was smirking, looking amused.

“What?”

“You’ve been staring at me for five minutes.” Roman explained simply, cocking his head to the side just the slightest. “I know I’m a sight to behold, but you’ve never been much of a beholder. Something up?”

Virgil faintly blushed, embarrassed to have been caught staring like some tween with a bad crush. “Nothing.” He answered equally quietly, unsure why the space or the moment seemed to demand reverence but abiding by its quiet nonetheless. “Just spaced out.”

Roman didn’t look like he fully believed that, but he still half-shrugged at the cop out of an answer. “Fair enough.” He said, settling once more against the couch and looking out the window.

The silence held for a couple minutes. Virgil looked down into his lap, trying to avoid another awkward moment. Though his gaze was off Roman, however, his thoughts were not.

“Care to dance?” Roman broke the silence.

Virgil looked back up at him, Roman now looking at him with a small half-smile and a curious expression. “Dance?” Virgil repeated, faintly bewildered.

Roman nodded. “We’ve been sitting here for at least two hours without moving. I figure we should stretch in some way or another.”

“And you want that way to be dancing?”

“Why shouldn’t it be?” Roman asked. “Come on. It’ll be good, promise.”

Virgil watched Roman for a moment, not certain what he was looking for but deciding quickly enough it was probably there. He nodded, just a little, and Roman’s smile grew.

Roman got off the couch easily, managing to move Virgil so that he was barely jostled as his makeshift pillow stood. As soon as he was on his feet, Roman offered a hand to Virgil.

A beat passed before Virgil actually took it.

“I hope you know I can’t dance.” Virgil said as he rose, gently pulled up by Roman.

“I’ve got two left feet- don’t worry.” Roman reassured. “I’m not going to try and perform the tango.”

“Then what are you going to try to perform?”

“Nothing fancy.” Roman promised as he guided Virgil’s arms around the back of his neck, loosely placed and held, as he himself moved his hands to lightly hold Virgil’s hips. “Just a little bit of back-and-forth steps.”

Virgil tried to ignore the odd sensation of… something in his chest. He wasn’t sure what. He wasn’t sure why. He had been close to Roman before- barely a minute ago they had been more or less cuddling- and they had danced together too, though never like this. Normally they were stupid, quick wild dances, normally done when Roman was excited about something and deemed the only way appropriate to release that energy to be through dancing. This was more calculated. More personal. More important.

But for the love of the gods, Virgil couldn’t have told you why any of that mattered.

“Is this okay?” Roman asked, softly, yet another piece of a puzzle that wasn’t making any sense. Roman believed strongly in making sure people were comfortable with what was happening and being wary of personal boundaries. But he only ever asked strangers if they were okay with something. With friends, he learned their tells, and was able to call the whole thing off without so much as a word from the uncomfortable person. He had never missed a sign before, and Virgil doubted he ever would.

So why was he asking? Especially Virgil, who’s tells he had been learning for five years filled with panic attacks and anxious breakdowns. If anyone knew when he wasn’t comfortable at any given moment, it was Roman.

Thoughts getting him nowhere, Virgil turned his attention back to reality, nodding slightly in answer to Roman’s question. Roman watched him for a moment after the nod. Virgil couldn’t tell if he wanted to be certain that Virgil was telling the truth or if there was some other reason he felt his gaze had to linger.

The moment passed soon enough, however, and Roman began to move, starting with slow, small movements, swaying slightly as he stepped forwards once and backwards twice. Virgil easily replicated his movements, copying his steps and swaying with him.

Minutes passed and their dance barely changed, Roman introducing a slight turn as they stepped that had them slowly circling but little else. Virgil continued to follow the dance, steps never faltering despite the fact that he was watching Roman’s face and not his feet.

Roman’s eyes were a pale green (how had Virgil never noticed before?) but Virgil could have sworn they were gold for how brightly they shone even with only moonbeams to light them (why were they shining like that, especially when all Roman could see was him?).

Freckles decorated his face, over the bridge of his nose and across his cheeks as well (they must have hidden in his tan before, how else could Virgil only now realize Roman had them?), light brown and doing little more than somehow making Roman look more gorgeous (when did Virgil realize he was gorgeous?).

And his lips… (why was Virgil even focusing on his lips?) they were just lips, really, like any human would have (so why couldn’t Virgil stop thinking about them?).

“Who are you?” Virgil asked, not sure why. It was a stupid question, one that Roman couldn’t really answer, and Virgil knew that. But the silence had been waiting to be broken, and Virgil was weak to do anything else than offer the first thought he had to do so.

“That’s a silly question.” Roman said, lightly teasing, though the melancholy in his small smile didn’t match the tone. “I’m Roman.”

“I know that.” Virgil defended.

“So you asked because…?”

“Because you’re… different. You’re Roman, but you’re not- you’re not the Roman I know.” Virgil said before he sighed, eyes falling from Roman’s face to his chest. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“...I think I get what you mean.” Roman said, quietly, after a moment.

The silence once more stretched, Virgil still looking at Roman’s chest and Roman still swaying slightly as he led their slow circling dance. The words still didn’t make sense, still didn’t explain how he was feeling, didn’t explain what it meant to be in the apartment of a long-time friend and feel as if you were just dancing with a stranger.

“Beautiful stranger.” Virgil murmured. That wasn’t really right either. But it was closer.

“Pardon?”

Virgil didn’t respond immediately, letting them make one more full circle before he said, quietly, barely a whisper, “You’re a beautiful stranger.”

Roman was then the one to let the silence stretch across the time of one more circle, leaving Virgil to only hope he understood what Virgil meant, that it wasn’t just some sort of odd compliment but instead something so much more meaningful.

“And what does that mean?” Roman asked, though Virgil could tell he didn’t want the literal definition of Virgil’s words.

“I’m terrified.” Virgil admitted.

“So am I.” Roman responded. “But I think… I think that’s okay.”

Virgil finally looked up, meeting Roman’s eyes again, not so much unable to place the emotion in them as he was afraid to do so. “Is it?” He asked, cautiously, afraid of what would break if Roman said no.

Roman met his eyes for a moment before he answered, clearly thinking, clearly considering, but Virgil could tell it wasn’t to consider his own answer. He was considering the answer Virgil wanted to hear. He had already made his own decision.

“Yeah.” Roman said, finally. “It is.”

Another moment, another beat, another pause passed without a word, without a movement aside from their steps. And then one of them was leaning forwards- Virgil really wasn’t sure which, it might have been both of them- and they were kissing, just as slowly and gingerly as they were dancing.

Virgil wasn’t sure how long they were kissing, but he decided it was perfect. He was breathless when they pulled apart, but only slightly. He took a breath as he looked at Roman, who was smiling, a big yet gentle smile, and Virgil couldn’t help but smile back.

Still smiling, Virgil leaned his head against Roman’s shoulder, allowing himself to be rocked by Roman’s swaying as they continued their dance, just closer now. Virgil’s arms moved to hold Roman’s waist, and Roman’s moved up to wrap around Virgil’s chest. Virgil knew they’d have to stop dancing soon enough, have to sit down and actually talk about this- about them.

But for now, he was happy to stay like this, comfortable in the silence, content in the hold of a beautiful stranger.

_ Beautiful Stranger, here you are _

_ In my arms _

_ And I think it’s finally _

_ Finally _

_ Finally _

_ Finally _

_ Finally safe _

_ For me to fall _

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on tumblr at @sleepless-in-starbucks


End file.
